Island of Darkness (12 page)

“Well, I can’t do anything about that,” she said softly. “I

wish I could.”

“Now you’re being an angel of mercy again!” he retorted, and laughed harshly. “I prefer you when you’re battling with me, it’s more fun!”

“For you maybe, not for Leonora!” Scottie interposed shortly. “You’re a selfish devil, Jason!”

Leonora had seldom heard him speak to Jason so sharply, and she found herself praying that he would do nothing to precipitate his threatened departure by letting his feelings run away with him. She had not realised just how deep his feelings ran until today, and somehow she felt bound to blame herself, at least in part, for causing a situation which now threatened to get out of hand.

“It’s never bothered you before,” Jason told him, making no attempt to deny the allegation, but obviously puzzled by Scottie’s manner. “I thought you were used to my shortcomings by now!”

For a moment Scottie tussled with his temper, but finally an inborn good nature prevailed, that and the look in Leonora’s eyes, and he shrugged. “One of them being that you won’t rest enough,” he said. “I wish you’d stayed asleep for a bit longer.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Jason waved an impatient hand and drew Leonora across the room with him until he came in contact with one of the armchairs. “Get me a drink, Leonora, will you?” he asked as he sat down. “My mouth feels as dry as a bone!”

“Jason-”

"Don’t preach!” he snapped. “Just get me a drink!” She had not meant to preach but merely intended to suggest he might ask her more politely. “I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort,” she told him haughtily. “I was just going to suggest that you tried saying please!” For a moment he directed those blank dark lenses at her without moving, then he threw back his head and laughed. “I see,” he said. “You object to being told what to do?”

“I prefer being asked,” Leonora retorted, and again he laughed.

“O.K., little Miss Dignity,” he said softly.
“Please
will you get me a drink?”

“Of course!” She walked over to the tray that held glasses and a cool, frosted jug of lemon and turned to look across at him. “Lemonade?” she asked, the jug already in her hand, and he nodded.

Scottie, she thought, was even less pleased at the idea of her waiting on his employer and he came and took the glass of lemonade from her as she finished pouring it, giving her a meaningful look before he carried it across to Jason. “I’m paid to run around after you,” he told him in a quiet voice. “Leonora isn’t!”

Jason took the long cold drink from him and frowned, obviously puzzled by his manner. “Damn you, Scottie, what’s the matter with you?” he demanded, then laughed and shook his head without giving Scottie a chance to reply. “The way you’ve been going on lately, if I didn’t know you better I’d say you have a case of
amore -
you have all the earmarks!”

There was a long heavy silence which probably meant less to Jason because he could not see the looks so hastily exchanged between the two of them. He drank deeply from his glass and did not put it down on the arm of his chair until it was empty, still unaware that he had said anything of consequence.

“Suppose I was?” Scottie asked suddenly, and his eyes watched the rugged brown face closely, but Jason was plainly puzzled. “In love,” Scottie reminded him. “You said something about me being in love - what would you say if I was?”

Leonora too was watching Jason, and her heart was thudding hard under her ribs as she tried to interpret the varying expressions that flitted across that volatile face in the few seconds that elapsed before he answered. She wished with all her heart that Scottie had not raised that subject, especially with Jason.

Then suddenly Jason was smiling wryly, oblivious of the glitter of resentment in Scottie’s eyes. “I’d say you were a fool, you old sinner,” he declared bluntly, and obviously not taking it seriously.

Scottie’s lips were compressed and he did not look at all like the Scottie she knew, more like a stern, uncompromising stranger. “You’ve professed to be in love often enough,” he said in a cold, harsh voice. “So you could speak from experience, of course!”

Jason frowned, more puzzled than ever, as if he at last realised he was serious. “I guess I could,” he admitted quietly. “I could also quote the same words you’ve said to me often enough - you’re old enough to know better!” Scottie’s look of stark anger startled Leonora and she instinctively hurried over to him and put an appealing hand on his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. “Please!” she whispered urgently, and he held her gaze for several seconds before shaking his head.

He was suddenly less angry than hurt, as if she had reminded him of a possible reason for her own refusal to marry him, and he shrugged. “Aye,” he said resignedly. “Mebbe you’re right!”

CHAPTER SIX

Whether it was something in her manner or simply because she had said so little about her previous day’s visit to Isola de Marta, Leonora was not sure, but it was obvious from Clive’s manner that he suspected something was not right. Not that he was likely to question her outright about her visit, he never did that, but she could feel him watching her as he had done several times during dinner, and she was not really very surprised when he finally ventured a question.

“Is everything O.K. at the villa?” he asked, and Leonora nodded.

Her heart was doing a rapid tap-tap at her ribs while she summoned the necessary words to tell him that Scottie had proposed to her and that, despite her uncle’s feelings in the matter, she had refused to marry him. Not that he would have expected her to marry anyone simply because he approved of him, but he would be disappointed, she knew.

The once or twice that Scottie had had free time to himself recently, he had visited them at the shop and he and her uncle got along very well together. Clive also made no secret of the fact that he saw him as an ideal husband for any girl, and especially for Leonora.

“Everyone’s O.K.,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Although you might say things took quite an eventful turn, here and there, yesterday.”

“I only ask,” Clive interrupted without waiting for an explanation, “because when I was along visiting Giuseppe about transport yesterday afternoon, I thought I saw Jason Connor sitting in the car with Scottie.” His eyes narrowed in friendly curiosity. “I thought you said he never went out anywhere.”

“He doesn’t normally,” she told him, and wondered how much he already knew from Scottie about the prospect that lay before Jason. “He hadn’t much option this time, he had an appointment to see Sir Basil Thorpe in Genoa.”

“In Genoa?” It was obvious that was news to him. She nodded. “Apparently he’s flown over for some conference or other, and he was seeing Jason while he was here. I believe he’s something of a fan of Jason’s, so he didn’t object to bringing the mountain to Mohammed.”

Clive’s expression confirmed the importance of the man in question, and he was obviously impressed that Jason had been so honoured. “Thorpe, eh?” he said. “Well, he’ll be in good hands there and no mistake!” “Scottie thinks so,” Leonora said quietly, and betrayed her own anxiety by the tone of her voice, so that Clive looked at her with a raised brow.

“Don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. I know Sir Basil’s very good and if Jason has to have an operation to restore his sight, it’s better to have Sir Basil doing it than anyone else.”

“But the odds aren’t all that good,” Clive said, his grey eyes watching her face closely. “Something like fifty-fifty, so I read somewhere.”

“It’s a frightening gamble,” Leonora said softly, “to someone like Jason.”

“They’re frightening odds to anyone,” he said, and shook his head, his sympathy tempered with doubt as her own had once been. “But I can imagine he wouldn’t take kindly to anything that restricts his activities for very long. He’s lucky in that if anyone can make it work for him, it’s Sir Basil Thorpe - he’s the best there is!”

“Again you’re quoting Scottie,” she told him, and Clive looked at her steadily for a moment.

“I always say your Scottie’s got his head screwed on the right way,” he said, and laughed shortly, shaking his head. “I’ll bet he’s got his hands full too, hasn’t he? With Connor living on the edge of a volcano - wondering if he’ll ever see again. It must be quite a hellish experience for the poor devil!”

Leonora took an apple from the fruit dish in the middle of the table and looked at it in her hand for a moment or two, considering her words carefully before she spoke. “As a matter of fact Scottie’s talking about leaving Jason,” she said, and was surprised to see her uncle nodding and seemingly not a bit surprised by the news.

“I had a hunch I could read something like that between the lines when he was here last,” he said, and Leonora wondered why no such instinct had forewarned her. “What’s he thinking of doing instead?” he asked. Not a word about his proposing to leave just when

Jason needed him most, she noticed wryly, and for the first time in her life felt herself out of sympathy with her uncle. “He
is
going to stay with Jason long enough to see him through this,” she told him, in a tone that left no doubt as to her own feelings in the matter. “But it was touch and go for a while. He’s co-owner with his cousin of a garage in Scotland, and he’s going to take a more active part in running it.”

Clive was studying her carefully, and she did not meet his eyes but gave her attention to cutting her apple into two. “Did
you
persuade him to hang on until after Connor’s big day?” he asked, and she shrugged.

It was obvious there was something more than mere curiosity behind the question and she was reluctant to answer it. “In a way, I suppose I did,” she admitted. “It -it just didn’t seem right, somehow, to desert him just when he needs most support.”

“It sounds as if he has yours,” Clive suggested quietly, and she did not answer. “What made Scottie decide to leave so suddenly, after all the years he’s been with him? Have they had a bust-up or something?”

“No, not exactly,” she denied, approaching her own part of the story with caution. “I - I rather gathered that he - Scottie - is anxious to settle down, and he’ll be going home, of course, he’s always missed his home a lot.”

Her uncle smiled, a speculative look in his eyes as he watched her. “That’s how you came to be so friendly with him, isn’t it?” he asked. “You listened while he talked about his home - but he’s a bit young to talk about settling down, I would have thought.”

“I think it’s more the idea of staying in one place that appeals to him,” she said, and her uncle laughed shortly.

“Yes,” he said, “I can see he might get fed up chasing all over the world at the breakneck speed Connor lives at.” The grey eyes regarded her closely for a second or two. “Is he thinking of taking a wife when he settles down?” he asked softly, and Leonora nodded, reluctantly. “You?”

She toyed absently with the half apple she had barely touched and did not look at him. “He had me in mind,” she admitted quietly. “He - he asked me to marry him.”

Clive looked rather smugly satisfied, she thought, and he was nodding his head approvingly. “Ah!” he said. “I thought he’d be broaching the subject before too long. He spoke to me about it,” he explained when she looked startled. “I gathered from the way he spoke that he knew I was your nearest relative and he was making his intentions quite plain before he said anything to you. Although you must have had a pretty good idea how things stood.”

Leonora shook her head in hasty denial, perhaps rather too hastily, for she had been aware, if only she had been wise enough to recognise it, that Scottie was more than just friendly towards her. “I suppose I had,” she admitted. “But he did take me rather by surprise, for all that.”

“And?” His look of anticipation gave her a strangely guilty feeling as he waited for her to break

the news to him.

“I - I told him I couldn’t marry him,” she said.

“You
couldn’t
?”

He eyed her narrowly and she could feel the colour that flooded warmly into her cheeks, although she told herself that she had no need even to tell Clive her reasons for not marrying Scottie.

She was not even certain if he would understand.

“I couldn’t,” she repeated, and he shook his head, his lower lip pursed doubtfully.

“Leo, honey,” he said quietly, “I hope you haven’t turned down a good steady chap like Scottie McLellan because you fancy yourself in love with Jason Connor, have you?”

“Oh, why must you think it’s because of Jason?” Leonora cried, discarding the half-eaten apple with a gesture of bad taste. “You’re as bad as Scottie!”

Clive was seemingly undeterred by her display of temperament and merely raised a querying brow at her, his gaze steady, and showing perhaps a hint of challenge. “Well,” he asked, “are we right?”

“No, of course you’re not right!” she denied fiercely. “It’s too idiotic for words and you should both know it! If Jason ever comes back here after he gets his sight back I’ll be very surprised - I doubt if I’ll ever see him again!”

“And if he doesn’t?” Clive asked quietly.

Leonora bit her lip, shaking her head slowly as she visualised the effect of such a verdict on Jason. “If he doesn’t,” she said softly, “I don’t know what he’ll do.” “Then if it isn’t because of Connor,” her uncle insisted, “why did you refuse to marry Scottie?”